Reasons
by The Masked Fox
Summary: A soft breeze rustled the blooming trees and caressed Izayoi’s long raven hair. “Why did you do that?” she asked. “Why must there be a reason?” he echoed, and then he was gone. Why must there be a reason, indeed. Drabbles IzayoixInutaisho
1. Reasons

A/N: This is just a oneshot that I felt like writing. It is Izayoi and Inutaisho's first meeting. Inutaisho only has Sounga because the Tessaiga and Tenseiga were made in order to protect Izayoi, who he just met in the story. Without further ado, please, enjoy.

_Reasons_

A soft breeze rustled the blooming trees and caressed Izayoi's long raven hair. A faint smile graced her lips as she turned her face into the wind and closed her eyes, enjoying the cool sensation of the air running along her cheekbone. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more, returning to gathering the pastel pink cherry blossoms. The day was warm and sunny, the perfect day for venturing outside, and so Lady Izayoi had slipped out of the palace, evading her father's guardsmen, in order to pick the beautiful flowers.

"Such a beautiful lady should not be out by herself," said a deep voice behind her. Startled, Izayoi turned to face the intruder, her long hair whirling around her before settling down gently. Her honey-brown eyes took in the stranger who had interrupted her peaceful pastime. He was a demon, tall and handsome. His eyes were a striking gold, and his hair, which was pulled back in a high ponytail, was a shiny silver-white. A jagged purple mark painted each cheek, and heavy studded armor covered most of his body. He had a long furry cloak that split into two tails at the ends, she noticed; but the most curious thing about him, to her, was the sword he carried. It was long, with an ancient bone handle inlaid with a large pink-purple orb.

"It is good, then, that you are here," she replied with a smile. He took a step towards her in a menacing manner.

"And what would you do if I were to harm you? I assure you, I am very capable of killing you with my bare hands…" he threatened, but Izayoi did not falter.

"If you wished me harm, my Lord, then you would have inflicted it long ago," she answered confidently. To this the demon smirked and backed off, acknowledging her assumption as correct. "May I know your name, strange youkai?" she asked.

"You may. It is Inutaisho," he replied. She smiled, and to him it seemed as if her smile brightened the world. "May I also have the pleasure of knowing your name, beautiful lady?" Izayoi's smile turned impish.

"I don't think so, Inutaisho-san. I wish to remain anonymous." Her eyes sparkled, and he smirked.

"Then I will simply have to call you 'my Lady', if you do not object…"

"I do not."

"Very well, my Lady. What are you doing so far out in the forest without an escort?" he asked, curious as to why she was out in the middle of nowhere, and yet unafraid.

"I am picking the sakura blossoms." Her voice was like snow, soft and quiet, but beautiful. The breeze brushed by them again, pulling at their hair delicately.

"To what end?" he asked, curious. Humans confused him sometimes, but this one… this mysterious lady… she entranced him. She laughed, and it sounded like the happy babbling of a woodland brook.

"To no end but my own pleasure!" she laughed. He was confused.

"You have no reason?" he inquired, incredulous.

"Why must there be a reason?" she questioned back. He left it at that. Why did there have to be a reason, indeed? His eyes landed on her long, thick tresses, and he had the sudden urge to run his deadly claws through them and see what they felt like. Inutaisho approached her slowly, and her breath caught in her throat. Reaching up with one hand, he ran her ebony hair through his fingers, marveling at how it felt like cool silk. Their eyes locked and she became lost in his amber depths. Inutaisho reached down and plucked a solitary cherry blossom from her basket and placed it behind her ear. He turned to leave when her sweet voice stopped him.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, shocked and confused.

"Why must there be a reason?" he echoed, and then he was gone. A smile touched her lips as she brought her hand up to the flower in her hair. He had been so gentle, and his hands had been so warm. Her smile widened as she resumed gathering the sakura flowers. Why must there be a reason, indeed.

A/N: I hope you liked this short oneshot. As always, reviews are most welcome.

Idly Yours,

The Masked Fox


	2. To Win a Name and a Heart

A/N: I decided to add another oneshot to this story. I may decide to add more. It all depends on my mood. At any rate, I hope you enjoy the new addition.

_To Win a Name and a Heart_

Izayoi giggled quietly to herself, reveling in her stolen freedom. It was night, and the full moon shone brightly overhead in the cold sky. Mist puffed from her lips as she let out panted breaths, the result of her flight from the palace. A thick layer of snow covered the ground, crunching under her feet and leaving her tracks for her father's sentries to easily follow. But that was alright, they wouldn't catch on until morning when she was safely back in her room.

She flitted through the frosted forest, a snow sprite on fleet feet. She twirled and spun in the snow, glorying in the way the frozen air felt on her skin and in her lungs. Her chest heaved, her skin froze, her lungs burned, but her eyes twinkled.

A deep chuckle was heard in the dark wood. Izayoi froze, straining her human ears for any noise in the now forbidding forest. A twig snapped to her right and she spun in that direction, searching with inferior sight for her stalker. The rustling of a tree in the wind had her turning back around, still straining futilely for any sign of life. There was a rush of air, and then there was a hand loosely around her throat and a body close behind hers. She let out a startled gasp.

"You are lucky that it is me, my Lady, and not some demon who would desire to eat you," said the baritone of Inutaisho. Izayoi relaxed in his grip, welcoming his warmth now that the glow of freedom had worn off. "Why is it you are alone this time, Lady? And in the dead of night in the snow?" he asked softly.

"The snow called to me," she answered simply.

"It is cold, and you are human," he counseled. "You should not be out without more protection from the elements."

"Where have you been? I have not seen or heard from you since that springtime with the cherry blossoms," Izayoi inquired, changing the subject. Inutaisho let out another low chuckle at her inquisitiveness and the slight nuance of indignant sadness in her voice.

"I have been busy with many things," came his cryptic reply. His breath was hot on the top of her head, and the hand that had been gently holding her throat now snaked across her shoulders, holding her back securely to his chest.

"For instance…" she trailed off into a question. His closeness was making it hard for her to think, but it was nice and he was warm. It was strange, she hardly knew him at all, save for that he was a powerful demon, but with a good heart, yet he had occupied her thoughts frequently since that day under the cherry blossom trees. He was so kind and handsome, broad-shouldered and… masculine. His presence made her feel safe and protected. She supposed she was infatuated with the demon. Her father would die if he found out. Inutaisho's voice brought her out of her musing.

"For instance… putting down various demons who wish to challenge me for my territory," he supplied. She was so beautiful, so soft, and so delicate. He could hear her heartbeat like thunder underneath her thin white skin. How easy it would be to rend her life from her, and yet the thought of defiling something so perfect and fragile seemed sacrilegious. Her weakness made him want to protect her more. How curious. "Why is it we always seem to meet under such circumstances? You alone and vulnerable, and I hidden?" he asked absently. Her breath shuddered and she shivered.

"I do not know, Inutaisho-san, but as you said, it is fortunate that you are the one who finds me, and not some other ravenous oni," Izayoi softly replied. That thought made him go cold for some reason.

"Yes," he said laconically, too busy envisioning her lifeless body on the ground because he was unable to protect her. Her sweet scent calmed him, though; it reminded him that she was still there, in his arms, safe. She was heavenly; she smelled like the spring sakura blossoms they had first met under. The scent intoxicated him, and he found himself wanting to fill his lungs with it. He pulled her closer to him and gently buried his nose in her hair, drowning himself in the aroma of sakura in spring. Winter seemed to melt away, and for a moment he was back under those flowering trees. The sun warmed his skin, the breeze caressed his face, and she stood underneath the halo of pink like a tenshi again. Then it was gone, and the frozen world came back into focus. His lady was shivering from the cold, huddled as far as she could get into the warmth of his arms.

"You never did tell me your name, my Lady," he said as he drew her in closer to him, shielding her from the frosty air. Izayoi sighed as she snuggled into his warmth.

"No, I did not."

"Will you grace me with it yet, or keep it from me still?" he asked, amused. After a pause for thought, she replied.

"I think I will not."

"Not what?"

"Grace you with my name. I don't see why you would think I would give it to you after not seeing you for such a long time. I don't think you deserve it," she said haughtily. Inutaisho smirked.

"Really?" he drawled.

"Most definitely."

"Then I shall have to see you more frequently to pester you more often, my Lady. I will know your name," he promised. Izayoi gave a secret smile.

"We shall see," was all she said, and then she sneezed.

"I advised you not to go about in the snow without a haori, you know, but now it's too late. You are sick. Come, it is late, I will escort you home," he offered. He unfastened his mokomoko-sama and wrapped it around Izayoi's petite form, then scooped her up into his arms. The fur completely covered her, leaving only her face exposed to the elements; the white pelt was soft and warm, she felt safe wrapped up in it and in the youkai's arms. Her honey-brown eyes stared up at Inutaisho's face as he carried her back to the palace in silence.

Inutaisho ignored her stare as best he could, focusing on following her tracks back to her home. She was so small and light in his arms, and it was like she belonged there for some reason. He wished they could stay like that forever, but all too soon the palace wall came into sight. With all the grace of a dog demon, he jumped over the wall and landed softly in the courtyard. When he set her down on her own two feet, he bowed.

"Farewell, sweet Lady. I will return to win your name… and your heart," he said, and then he was gone, like the hoarfrost in autumn, leaving Izayoi alone in the courtyard, enveloped by his great mokomoko-sama. Long after he had gone she remained, gazing up at the full moon.

"You already have my heart, Inutaisho," she whispered to the stars before retiring inside just as the first streaks of dawn accented the horizon.

A/N: I hope it was to your liking. As always, reviews are most welcome.

Enervatedly,

The Masked Fox


	3. Without You

A/N: Here is the third installment of these drabbles. It's short, but I hope you won't mind. Enjoy.

_Without You_

Izayoi sat serenely at the low table, facing the beautiful lake at the back of her father's palace. It was summer, and the bamboo bordering the lake was green and thick. A warm breeze rustled the leaves of the bamboo distantly as she carefully executed a stroke of her calligraphy brush on the crisp, white rice paper covering the desk. She was writing a haiku; so far it read "Bamboo leaves rustle/In the gentle summer wind". All it needed was the last line, but she couldn't seem to find the right words.

Sighing, she placed her brush down carefully next to her ink-stone and sat back. Her eyes seemed to focus on the clear blue water of the lake, but in reality her gaze had turned inward. Memories of a silver-haired demon drifted lazily across her mind. It had been so long since she had seen him… though not as long as the time between his first and second visits. Still, he had promised to visit her more often and it disappointed her that he had broken his vow. Izayoi sighed again.

How she longed to feel his strong arms around her again, or gaze deep into his captivating amber eyes. Catching herself about to go on a daydream about the handsome demon (again), she huffed in annoyance. Infuriating youkai! She hoped that his thoughts were equally plagued, just to spite him. A sudden epiphany hit her in her anger; she knew how to end her haiku. Unfortunately, just as she was delicately constructing the last character an unexpected visitor startled her, causing her to jump and ruin the poem.

"My apologies, Lady Izayoi, if I startled you," said the intruder. Stifling her annoyance and sorrow at her ruined haiku, Izayoi forced herself to reply civilly.

"Don't worry about it; it was nothing. What may I do for you, Takemaru-san?" she asked politely.

"I simply came to see how you were doing, my Lady," he replied, but she could tell he was nervous and not telling her something. She did not have to wait long before he informed her of what was on his mind. "I also came to tell you that I spoke to your father. He agreed to allow me to court you." Izayoi paled.

"Takemaru-san, you know I only see you as a friend, a very good friend," she protested, trying not to dry heave at the thought of courting him. He was a good man, but she had known him since they were children. He was like a brother… this was so wrong.

"I know, Izayoi-dono, but please, just give it a chance? With time, I'm sure you'll come to love me in the way that I love you." He was just so damn hopeful sounding, like a puppy. She could say nothing. "Please, at least think about it," he persisted. Dumbly, she nodded, still in shock. Takemaru sighed in relief. "Thank you, Izayoi-dono. I'll leave you to your poem now, I guess," he said awkwardly and left.

How could her father do this to her? He knew she only saw Takemaru as a friend. He knew she was infatuated with someone else (Though who it was he did not know. She shuddered at the thought of her father finding out about her secret trysts with the demon lord). How could he? Choking back a sob, Izayoi retreated back into her room, slamming shut the shoji that led outside and collapsing on her futon. She buried her face into the soft fur of the absent lord's mokomoko-sama that had been serving as a lap blanket since he had left and cried. Clinging to it, she tried to glean what comfort it gave. It was his. It smelled like him, and the scent calmed her slowly. After a while she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by furry warmth and the smell of him. She couldn't help but think that her ruined haiku was untrue, so terribly, terribly untrue.

Out on the engawa, fragile rice paper rustled in the breeze, echoing the far-off bamboo by the lake.

_Bamboo leaves rustle_

_In the gentle summer wind_

_I do not miss you_

A/N: I hope this pleased you. Feel free to review; they are always welcome.

Lackadaisically Yours,

The Masked Fox


	4. Kisses

_A/N: This is the fourth enstallment of this series. I will to continue to add to it when inspiration hits and my muses are generous. Please enjoy._

_Kisses_

It had been but two months after Takemaru's visit that Izayoi saw the regal inuyoukai once more. The days were beginning to become cold, and the princess found herself becoming agitated with the necessity to confine herself within the warm walls and many layers of fabric. In defiance of the situation, she had thrown open the shoji doors of her room that led to the inner courtyard and sat herself at the opening so that she gazed upon the frozen garden as she played the koto. She closed her eyes as the melancholy notes surrounded her and tugged at her soul. The sadness of the song reflected the sadness of her heart and the death of nature before her. As the last note of the song faded away into the chilled air, she slowly opened her brown eyes once more. They widened as they landed on the form of Inutaisho leaning against the doorway nonchalantly, his golden eyes trained on her.

"Inutaisho-san! What are you doing here?" she asked, aghast. He shouldn't be within the palace walls. What if someone were to see him here? It was dangerous!

"I see you still wear my mokomoko-sama," he said, ignoring her outburst. Indeed, the mokomoko-sama that he had left with her all those months ago was wrapped about her small frame, keeping her delicate body warm.

"Hai. Here, you must want it back," she said and proffered it to him.

"Keep it until the earth warms once more; you have more need of it than I," he said. Smiling softly, she rewrapped the white fur around her and snuggled into its warmth. She was thankful that he had allowed her to keep it; the fur comforted her when she needed it, and it reminded her of the handsome youkai standing in front of her now.

"How long have you been standing there?" asked Izayoi curiously. Just how long had she been under the scrutiny of this dog?

"Since you began the song. You play very beautifully," he replied. A deep blush stained her porcelain features. It had been a beautiful song indeed; each note had pulled at Inutaisho's heartstrings and drawn him more under her spell.

"Arigato Gozaimasu, Inutaisho-san, but you shouldn't be here. What if someone should see you?" she asked worriedly. She could not have her father finding out that she was being visited by a ferocious youkai. The youkai in question let out a deep chuckle which only served to perturb her. "This is not a laughing matter, Inutaisho-san," rebuked Izayoi.

"Sumimasen, I did not mean to anger you, my Lady, but I had to see you, and since I have been able to come to you, you have not once stepped foot outside this damnable structure," he replied. She sighed, knowing he was right. A breeze wafted through the room, causing her to shiver in the cold. Inutaisho raised an eyebrow and shook his head. Stepping into the room, he slid the door shut behind him. "Why is it that you never take care of yourself properly? Here you are, letting in the cold. You will catch your death, woman," he complained. Izayoi graced him with a smile for his concern.

"Come and sit with me awhile and keep me warm," she offered, indicating the floor next to her. Gracefully, he sat next to her and looped his arm around her shoulders as she leaned against his side. The two sat there like that for a long while, neither of them speaking, just enjoying each other's company. "I missed you. You have been gone a long time." Izayoi's softly spoken words barely broke the easy silence surrounding them. Inutaisho tightened his embrace.

"My apologies, my Lady. I would assure you it was necessary, but I do not think it will matter," he replied, his voice regretful. At another time she would chastise him, at another time she would cry and rail at him, but that was the future. For now she kept quiet, enjoying his embrace, but oddly pensive about the small, unidentifiable sadness in her heart.

Finally, the time to separate came upon them. "I must go, your servant approaches," said Inutaisho. He looked down at the beautiful angel in his arms, taking in her long black hair, warm brown eyes, and flushed pink lips. She was breathtaking. Unable to stop himself, he lowered his head and caught her lips with his own. He did not take advantage of her startled gasp to deepen the kiss, instead he kept it light. Her soft lips felt like heaven to his own, and he was loathe to break from it—but necessity bid him be swift. When he broke the kiss, he gazed down upon her once more. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were swollen, and her lids were heavy on her eyes; she was even more desirable in this state, and he had to restrain himself from taking her lips a second time. "Will you grace me with your name, o beautiful maiden?" he asked hopefully. A slow smile lit up her face.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but not today," she replied softly. He gave an inward sigh. Well, it had been worth a try at least. He gave her one more fleeting kiss and then he was gone. A second later a servant opened the door with a tray of hot tea. Izayoi sighed as she dismissed the girl and blew on her tea, the kiss Inutaisho had bestowed upon her playing over and over again in her mind. Damn that youkai, she thought. His actions only made her long for him more. Delighted and frustrated, Izayoi sipped her tea and resigned herself to waiting until the audacious youkai called on her again.

The snow-capped mountains of Japan were wild and untamed. It could be felt in the lonely emptiness of the forest, the menacing darkness of the trees, and the harsh bleakness of the snow. Nothing stirred in the vast, frozen wasteland; no animal dared slip from its hole save two figures, as wild and menacing themselves as the emptiness they traversed. Both were tall like the trees and white like the snow, and though their booted feet sank deeply into the frozen ground, they made not a sound. However, while one struck his course in the open, exposed and unafraid, the other followed at a distance, flitting ghost-like between the trees, staying to the darkness of shadows.

The first figure stopped suddenly, and there was a tension about him that spoke of a waiting and a feral patience that all prey-stalkers seem to hold. Surreptitiously, he sniffed the icy air and waited. For a long time there was nothing. The horrible silence of the wild pressed down on him, and though he was of the wild he still felt the shiver of fear that it sent down his spine. Not fear of the one following him so doggedly, but fear of the unforgiving wilderness—its darkness and hunger. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and he was gazing at his pursuer across the great expanse of broken snow.

The newcomer bared little resemblance to himself, but his blood was unmistakable. Gold eyes burning with anger and resentment, and a little bit of sad confusion bored into him. "You smell of _her_ again," the young one said, but in his words there was an unspoken challenge, and just maybe the hint of a question.

"Why have you come?" asked the other, ignoring the statement. He did not have to explain himself to his pack. He was the alpha, and that was that. The young one was silent. Perhaps he did not know why he had come. "Go home pup. My business is my own." With that the old youkai deliberately turned his back on his pup and resumed his walking. It was intended to be an insult, and it hit home. It said 'You are not a threat. You are not powerful enough to warrant my respect. If I turn, you will hate it, but you will not attack, for you cannot'. Though the young one hated himself, he knew it was true. And so he stood there in the dark forest, seething and spiteful, but he did not attack. Finally, when the sight and smell of his patriarch had faded away, he turned sharply and went back the way he had come feeling helpless and weak compared to his father and to the terrible wild that surrounded him.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this addition to the story. I promise more will come, but I cannot promise when; I would ask that you bear with me. As always, reviews are most welcome.

Ambiguously Yours,

The Masked Fox


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